


Consequences

by perfectlysomber



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Soft Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlysomber/pseuds/perfectlysomber
Summary: Villanelle is not soft, unless she is with Eve. She feels things when she is with her. For the first time in forever, she feels things.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 17
Kudos: 199





	1. You Look Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Every action has consequences. Keep in mind that this is gonna have only a few subtle nods to events that take place in the actual show! Everything else is just purely how I'd imagine things would transpire had Villanelle and Eve done things any differently.

The serene sounds of Cigarettes After Sex's debut record filled Villanelle's Parisian apartment with a somber, almost eerie feeling. It was half past 2 in the morning, and somehow she found herself wide awake. She had a lot on her mind. But she chose to blame it on the jet lag. 

Killing people hardly ever fazed her. She was so far gone to the point where, if anything, it was the not killing— the being stagnant of it all— that sent her off the riles. Villanelle never knew a life where she was just doing absolutely nothing. Whether it was reading books, learning new languages, having casual sex, or training to become the best female assassin of all time, she always had so much on her plate. She hardly ever took the time to truly reflect on a kill. That was... until Bill happened. 

And she hardly ever regretted performing a kill... She hardly ever cared about anything or anyone at all. That was... until Eve happened. 

And fuck, how Eve Polastri ruined things for her.

But despite her very real, albeit temporary, feelings of regret, Villanelle tries hard not to dwell on what went down a few months ago in Cassiopeia. Maybe she didn't have to kill Bill so publicly, so violently, and... well... sometimes she feels like she really didn't have to kill Bill at all. But what seemingly brings her back down to Earth, what somehow manages to justify what she did, is the fact that Villanelle saw something beautiful spark within Eve after that night. Rage. 

It was nice. 

But a huge part of Villanelle wanted to retire. Do something less tiring, less gruesome. Something she could do that would actually impress Eve, because Villanelle liked her... a lot. More than she led on. More than she could even handle. 

Perhaps that's why she stayed up till the late hours of the night; she didn't realize it to its full extent, but Villanelle was feeling lonely. She exerts so much adrenaline and energy into traveling and pretending to be someone else that when she's actually done with a job, and she's finally alone again, it's as if she doesn't know how to cope. She has been doing this for so many years, it's become a part of her. So she has dealt with the quietness, she has dealt with the loneliness, she has dealt with the overwhelming thoughts about Eve. She has dealt with it without so much as doing anything about it. So really... she was at a loss.

As much as Villanelle wanted out of the extravagancy, there is no doubt that she revels in it just as much. But sometimes she just wants the calm without the storm, because she deserves that, too. And as extraordinary as she was, for the first time in, well, forever, there was finally someone that brought a sense of normalcy to her life. 

Eve.

\----

Villanelle awoke to the sound of her dirty dishes being washed in the kitchen. Without even flinching, she got out of bed to check the source of the matter.

She rolled her eyes.

"Konstantin, I can do my own dishes."

"You can, but you won't," he said with a shrug.

"Please stop breaking into my apartment," Villanelle practically begged, though she knew it was an impossible wish to grant.

Konstantin rinsed the last dish, placing it on the drying rack and wiping his hands with a towel in one swift motion.

"You're gonna want to sit for this," he said.

"No, I want you to leave. Get out," Villanelle was being partially serious. 

"Villanelle," he warned.

"Fine!” she groaned, her eyes widened, inching closer to the old man. "But I'm not going to sit."

Konstantin sighed, "How are you doing? Are you ready for another job?"

Villanelle crossed her arms, "No. I am taking a well-deserved vacation."

"In Paris?" he asked.

"Yes. I like it here," she nodded.

"You would rather be in London, no?" he said. "With her."

Villanelle's face hardened at the mere implication of Eve. She didn't bat an eye.

"You came here to talk to me about Eve?" 

"She is not doing well," he began.

"She is not talking to me," Villanelle said. 

"The boy died, Villanelle. Carolyn's boy," he finally said.

"What?" Villanelle's eyes glossed up. She felt her stomach churn.

"He was Eve's friend."

"I know that," Villanelle hissed. She thought for a moment, mainly about how Eve was feeling right now. How lonely she must be. It killed her. "How did he die?"

"He... Fell off a building. Made it look like suicide. I don't know," Konstantin sighed. "The Twelve put a target on him. That is all I know."

"Why would they do that? He did nothing wrong," she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"Because Carolyn. And because Eve. It was bound to happen..."

"What does that mean? What did they do?"

"They should not be investigating The Twelve, Villanelle. You know that, they know that. And yet," he shrugged.

Villanelle shrunk.

"How is she?" she asked.

"She is... coping," he said. “Not so well, though. You know how it goes."

She sighed, running her fingers through her soft, yet messy hair. She was tired, she really was. And now the vacation she had so longed for had to come to an early end. But every now and then, she had priorities… And Eve was certainly one of them.

"Book me a hotel in London. The most expensive you can find," Villanelle told him, not wasting another second feeling sorry for herself.

\----

Villanelle took a deep breath, her nerves almost getting the better of her. She had been standing in front of Eve's new place for the better part of an hour, not knowing how exactly to approach her. She would've been standing out there for longer, too, if the devil herself hadn't walked out the front door, a trash bag in one hand, a glass of wine in the other.

Eve's face dropped. 

They were finally face to face again, for the first time in months. Eve hadn't seen Villanelle since the Bill incident. So safe to say, this was a surprise. A sour surprise.

"What are you..." Eve said, breathless almost. 

"Eve," Villanelle pretended she wasn't shitting her pants. "You look... tired."

Eve said nothing. She just stared, in completely shock and at a loss for words.

"I am... so sorry to hear about your friend," Villanelle stood from across the front porch. For the first time in a very long time, Eve felt a sincerity linger in her voice. And it pained her almost as much as it comforted her.

“No you’re not,” she was trembling.

“I am."

"Kenny," Eve said, distraught. "My friend... his name is— was Kenny."

"I know," Villanelle says softly. 

"Did you do it?" Eve asks, though she didn't want to know. 

"No," Villanelle frowns. "I didn't— I wouldn't do that. Hurt someone you love. Not again, anyway."

"I don't believe you."

"Please," Villanelle didn't even realize how desperate she sounded. "Eve."

"What are you even doing here?" Eve asked, holding back tears. She was a mess from head to toe. On top of the devastating loss, she was really angry that Villanelle had to see her like this. In old sweatpants and a stained t-shirt, at that. 

"I came to bring you flowers," Villanelle said, raising the tote bag up to reveal a freshly picked bouquet. "I know how much you love the dreadful dark colors, so I picked out the best ones I saw at the hotel garden." 

"Flowers won't bring Kenny or Bill or Niko back," Eve was hurt.

"Niko is... dead?" Villanelle was confused.

"No, but he's not here. And he's probably not safe," Eve raised her voice. "Oh God— what if he's next? What if something happens to him?" she was starting to freak out, as if Niko's safety had just now been a concern for her.

Villanelle sighed, holding the flowers down by her side. She looked around as if she were having some sort of internal conflict. She wanted to choke on what was to come out of her mouth, but she knew what she had to do to earn Eve's trust. As much as it killed her to do it.

“That is not going to happen.”

“How do you know?"

“Because I will protect Niko," Villanelle said with a sigh. "No one is going to hurt him."

"You can't do that," Eve said, surely, as if she truly knew the ins and outs of The Twelve and all they were and weren’t capable of. She didn't know shit.

"I can and I will," Villanelle challenged her. "And I will protect you, too, Eve. I promise you." 

"I don't want your protection," Eve shut her eyes, but only for a moment. A tear escaped. “I don’t want anything to do with you."

Villanelle watched her cry, the feeling of absolute helplessness tugging at her heartstrings.

"I don't care if you do or do not want my protection. I will make sure you and your friends stay safe. Nothing is going to hurt you anymore," Villanelle inched closer to her, but only to set the bouquet of flowers on the floor beside Eve's foot. Then she squeezed her hand, briefly, assuringly.

“You… killed Bill. And then you disappeared,” Eve reminded her. “I don’t trust you.”

“There is nothing I can do to take that night back,” Villanelle tried not to let Eve’s words hurt her. “But everything I do, I do for a reason… Every kill is calculated.”

“There was no reason for you to kill Bill,” Eve said through tears.

“I did not know what he meant to you back then!” Villanelle almost raised her voice, the emotion of the moment getting the best of her. “Eve, I had no clue he was your best friend. And I know that there is nothing I can say to justify what I did that night, but I killed him because I truly thought I had to,” Villanelle softened up, her eyes on the brink of waterworks. "I didn’t know he was so important to you. That night does not go without punishment because I think about it all the time.”

It wasn’t until that very confession that Eve ever considered the fact that Villanelle could’ve possibly regretted a kill. Because up until that point, everything that came out of her mouth was seemingly bullshit. Eve could sense it from a mile away. But today, she seemed… defeated. As if this had been weighing on her mind since the night in Cassiopeia. Eve saw the tears almost form in her eyes, she heard the pain in her voice. It wasn't forced or callous. Eve didn’t want to forgive her, but for some reason… she did.

“Okay,” Eve finally gave in, sighing. 

“I will do anything to prove that you can trust me,” Villanelle was vulnerable.

“Okay,” Eve agreed, wiping her face. 

“Okay,” Villanelle nodded, slowly gaining her composure once again. She stared at the older woman, then through the front door that she had left open behind her. Bopping her head, she asked, “How is everything? Do you need any food or anything?”

“Uhh,” Eve found it much harder to transition from being an emotional wreck back to being normal and composed. Villanelle seemingly did it with ease. “I’m fine, I think.”

“So if I go into your kitchen, your fridge will be stocked with food and vegetables, yes?” 

“I mean, not really. But—“

“I will go to the market, then,” Villanelle offered, grabbing the trash that Eve had been holding as if to tell her that she’d walk to the bin and toss it for her. “Make a list of everything you need, and text it to me. Could be anything.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Eve wanted to decline the offer. But knowing Villanelle, she knew it was a lost cause.

“If you don’t text me, I will still get you food and supplies anyway. It is all the same to me,” Villanelle warned her, taking a few steps backwards before turning around and walking towards the trash bins. “I will be back in an hour, maybe two,” she projected her voice the further away she got. “Oh, and Eve?”

Eve lifted her eyebrows as if to acknowledge her. 

“You look beautiful,” she said. And then she walked away.


	2. I Think I Would do Anything for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle is still soft. She can't help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who showed support for chapter one! I'm fairly new to all of this, so the love was very much appreciated :)

Villanelle had dropped the groceries off at Eve’s, simply letting herself in and organizing the refrigerator for her. The curly-haired woman had been taking a nap, which could explain why Villanelle had been standing outside the door for a solid three minutes, practically pounding on the window without so much as a verbal response. She wanted to do the respectable thing which was knock and politely wait for Eve to let her in. But when that didn’t work, she resorted to picking the lock. Either way, she’d have achieved the same thing. 

The blonde assassin finished putting away all the groceries she had bought for her female counterpart. Gazing over at where Eve was fast asleep on the couch, Villanelle felt a small smile creep onto her face at the sight. She didn’t want to wake up, but she also didn’t want to leave without at least saying goodbye. 

“Hey,” she whispered, attempting to wake her up as gently as possible.

Eve didn’t budge.

“Psst,” she tried again, only this time a little louder.

No sign of life.

Villanelle sighed, walking over to where Eve was on the couch. After moving the bottle of wine from the floor and onto the coffee table, she took a moment to just watch her sleep, so peacefully. She wondered if she always slept like this, so heavily and so easily, or if she’d be up until the crack of dawn like Villanelle had been lately. But Eve reeked of alcohol, so she figured the latter wasn’t the case. 

“Eve,” Villanelle said so softly, caressing the woman’s face and pulling some hairs behind her ear. Finally, there was movement, and a rather frightened Eve at that. 

“My God,” Eve breathed out with a jolt. “You really need to start knocking before you come in.”

“I did this time. You didn’t hear me?” 

“No,” she sighed, sitting up. “I guess not.”

Villanelle smiled softly at her, “There is food in your refrigerator, and snacks in your pantry. I got you tea instead of coffee, and juice instead of alcohol.”

Eve paused for a moment, having a good look at the girl standing in front of her. She hardly ever knew what to say when she was with her. 

“A ’thank you’ would be nice,” Villanelle joked.

“Thank you.”

“I will pretend that was sincere,” the woman chuckled. 

Eve rubbed her eyes, “Are you staying for dinner?”

Villanelle was surprised by the offer. And as much as she wanted to stay, she knew she had to give her some well-needed space first. Besides, she has other things to attend to now that she made Eve a pretty hefty promise earlier. She had to come up with a course of action in case The Twelve were to try to get to Niko or anyone close to Eve. And if Eve’s well-being and sanity were on the line, then surely there was no time to waste. 

“Can’t. I have some things I need to sort out,” she said, both her hands shoved into the pockets of her pants. “I sort of promised my friend that I will protect her and everyone she loves from potentially getting murdered. So I’m only a little bit busy.”

That managed to crack a small smile onto the Asian woman’s face, and it was a pleasant sight to see. Villanelle felt like she accomplished enough for the day, satisfied enough to take her leave.

“Anyway, I must go. Can you lock the door behind me?” Villanelle asked, insisting that the woman walk her out. 

Eve nodded, walking over to escort her to the front door. 

“Call me if you need anything. The hotel I’m staying at is just a few streets down, so I can be here super fast in case you need me,” Villanelle offered her, though she knew that if it really came down to it, Eve would be more than capable of taking care of herself in a dire situation. But still. 

“Okay,” Eve nodded, as she opened the door for her. She looked absolutely helpless, but she tried. “Thank you, Villanelle.”

Villanelle turned around and offered a sad smile to the shorter woman, gazing briefly into her eyes before leaving Eve behind, her scent lingering. 

\----

Villanelle had been sitting outside of Hyde Park for no more than ten minutes when she spotted the person she had been waiting for. 

“You really had me waiting for you?” she rolled her eyes, aggravated to say the least. 

“I am not even ten minutes late, Oksana,” the old woman shrugged with an attitude.

“Villanelle,” she practically growled. “You call me Villanelle.”

“What am I doing here, Villanelle,” the woman added an emphasis onto her name. 

“I need your help with something.”

“Villanelle needs Dasha’s help?” she teased. “You must be desperate. Where is Konstantin these days?”

“I do not trust Konstantin with this,” Villanelle rolled her eyes. “I think he is hiding something from me.”

Dasha nudged her, proudly. “You are smart for keeping your guard up around men."

“They always disappoint,” Villanelle agreed.

Dasha laughed. "What did you call me here for?”

Villanelle’s demeanor changed in a mere instant. Dasha had been Villanelle’s handler early on in her career as an assassin. Seeing her for the first time after all these years was surreal, and it made things feel all too real for her once again. What she was about to ask for was forever going to change things for her, and that scared her a little bit.

"I want to become a Keeper. I need a bigger role than what I have,” Villanelle finally told her. 

Dasha’s eyes widened. “A Keeper?”

“Yes. I need your help.”

“But why? A Keeper, Villanelle? That is even higher up than me,” Dasha was cautious. “You haven’t talked to Konstantin about this, have you?"

“Konstantin knows too much. I cannot trust him with this. I can barely trust you,” Villanelle made a funny face at the older woman.

“He would have tried to talk you out of it,” Dasha sighed. “But if this is what you want…"

“Yes, it is.”

“Can I at least know why you are asking such a favor from me?” Dasha asked, obviously quite intrigued by the request. 

“Don’t ask me about it, okay? The less you know the better,” 

Dasha shrugged, knowing she couldn’t get the blonde to budge. 

“You are one of the organization’s favorite, by far. I will see what I can do to help you. But you are probably going to have to work more than you ever have before. And keep a low radar… I know you struggle with that, you little attention-seeker,” Dasha warned her. “I mean it, Villanelle. Keep a low profile."

She rolled her eyes for the millionth time that day. 

“Okay. Are we done here? I have to go visit my girlfriend to make sure she has not yet gotten alcohol poisoning,” Villanelle sighed, checking her imaginary watch on her wrist, feigning boredom.

“You invite me all the way out here just to be rude to me," Dasha feigned offense.

“Yes. It is one of the few things I enjoy in this world,” she chuckled. “Well, I’m bored now. Smell ya later.”

\----

Eve was in the middle of eating her surprisingly well-crafted ham and cheese sandwich when she felt her phone vibrate through the pocket of her sweatpants. Instinctually, she knew exactly who it was before even getting a chance to check the caller ID. Villanelle. 

“Eve.”

“Yes?” Eve replied.

“I’m just checking on you,” Villanelle said. “Are you eating dinner?”

Eve looked around to see if maybe she was standing outside her window, “Are you watching me?”

“What?” Villanelle laughed through the phone. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just like to know that you are taking care of yourself.”

“Well, it’s not like you haven’t done it before,” Eve told her. “Watched me through my window, I mean.”

“Hmm, fair point.”

Eve cracked a small smile— she wondered if it was obvious through the phone. 

“I’ve made a sandwich,” Eve assured her.

“Nice. What kind?” the other woman asked, as if this was the most interesting conversation she’s had all day.

“Tomato, ham, and cheese,” Eve spoke with her mouth full. 

“Do you like the bread I got you?” Villanelle inquired. “It’s an American brand. I think it’s quite delicious.”

“Mhm. It's delightful,” Eve agreed. 

There was a very short yet sobering silence between the two of them. Eve didn’t mind it, though, because she could faintly hear Villanelle breathing softly through the phone. She knew she was up to something-- she knew she was probably running around town doing God knows what. Villanelle was almost always busy, and was very hard to keep up with. So Eve was able to determine that Villanelle was probably power-walking down the streets of London, getting all kinds of looks from strangers passing by, because that’s the kind of reaction she got just about anywhere she went. Eve was sure of it.

“I'm on my way to see Niko,” Villanelle confessed out of the blue.

Eve tensed up at the idea of Villanelle being alone in a room with Niko. Sure, she knows she probably wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. But still… Villanelle was intimidating, and Niko isn’t exactly the confrontational type. 

“How do you know where he is?” Eve asked. She didn’t even know where he was staying.

“Do you even have to ask me that?” 

“I’m curious,” Eve defended herself.

“I know people who are very good at tracking people down. I could pretty much find anybody I want in a matter of a few hours,” Villanelle subtly reminded Eve of how powerful she was. 

“That’s how you found me, right?” Eve asked.

There was another brief pause, as if Villanelle had to tread carefully around what she told Eve.

“Yes. But it is dangerous for me to tell you these things over the phone,” Villanelle warned her.

“How often do you use your resources to just… find people?” Eve continued to push, her curiosity getting the best of her.

“If I am being completely honest, Eve. You are the only person I have ever asked them to track down outside of my work obligations. It is very unprofessional of me.”

Eve wasn’t sure if she should be flattered. But with Villanelle, she supposed that was as sincere of a compliment as it gets.

“Why are you going to Niko’s?” Eve asked. 

“You ask so many questions,” Villanelle feigned irritation, but she knew Eve was most likely just feeling anxious about not knowing what was going on. “I am just going to check out his living situation. Find out if he has roommates, check out the neighborhood. Nothing crazy.”

“How do you plan on protecting him? What do you mean by that, exactly? What if he’s not even in any imminent danger— you’d just be wasting your time.”

“It is better to be safe than sorry, no?” Villanelle patronized her through the phone. Though, Villanelle had a gut feeling that there was so much more to this than either of them anticipated, and she had no choice but to set up some sort of protection plan for Eve’s estranged husband. But she didn’t want to worry her, since she already had so much going on already. So she attempted to downplay the situation. “Either you want me to make sure he is okay, or you don't. It does not matter to me, personally. I am only doing this for you.”

“Of course I want to make sure he’s okay,” Eve sighed.

“Then stop worrying about it so much. Just trust that I have a plan in case things take a turn for the worst.”

Eve bit her lip, “I trust you.”

Eve could hear Villanelle’s genuine surprise from over the phone.

“You do?”

“No,” Eve joked.

A scoff. “Whatever, Polastri.”

Eve smiled.

“Are you there yet?”

“I’m almost in his neighborhood, yes. I’m gonna get off my phone now, though."

“Don’t you dare scare him off, okay?” Eve told her.

“No promises,” she smirked through the line. “Oof, I think I see him. He is not looking too great."

Eve rolled her eyes.

“Villanelle?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you... for doing this. I know you couldn’t care any less about him, but he’s important to me,” Eve admitted.

Another pause.

“Of course, Eve. I think I would do anything for you.”

A beat.

The line disconnects.


	3. Play Nice with the Mustache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle has a brief encounter with Niko, much to her dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little filler chapter to hold us all over. The next one's gonna be pretty long so bare with me.

She was staring at him through the window. Niko was applying some deodorant, his chest bare for all to see, and his mustache as bushy as ever. She rolled her eyes with disgust. What did Eve see in him? She’d never understand.

Villanelle debated on whether she should knock on his front door, or sneak in through the back to catch him by surprise. And she would’ve done the latter, had she had it her way. But she remembered what she was actually doing this for— or rather, who she was actually doing this for. There was no way Niko could ever trust her if she broke into his house for like… the third or fourth time. 

She hated the normalcy of it all, but she knew she had no other choice in this case. She rung the doorbell, and waited painfully for his acquaintance. 

Niko opened the door, and nearly slammed it in her face as soon as he got so much as a glance of who was standing in front of him. 

“Hey! That is rude,” Villanelle managed to stick her foot in front of the door, preventing him from shutting her out.

Niko’s eyes were wide, his face red. Villanelle knew he was terrified of her— and quite frankly, she intended to keep it that way. But tonight, she was going to try to play nice… Whatever it takes. 

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Niko gasped, backing further away with every step Villanelle took into his house.

“You can relax, you know. I’m not going to hurt you,” it was shame how many times she’s had to say that lately.

Niko ran to his kitchen, attempting to get a head start on things. Villanelle rolled her eyes, chasing him through the hall, calm as ever. She saw the sharp utensil in his hands and laughed. He was trembling.

“And what are you going to do with that knife?” Villanelle pretended to pout with fear.

“I will kill you,” Niko trembled. “For what you did to Bill. And for breaking into my home.”

Villanelle sighed, another eye roll. “So dramatic… You can put it away, Nikolas. I’m really not going to do anything to you.”

“I don’t believe you!” his voice echoed.

“Believe me, dude. If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it by now,” she glared at him, helping herself to a ripe banana she found on the counter. 

Niko almost let his guard down. If only for a moment. But he kept the knife pointed at Villanelle, keeping a safe distance of about 6 feet between the two of them.

“Why haven’t you?”

“Eve would never forgive me if I hurt you,” Villanelle stated, simply. 

“So Eve sent you here?” he asked.

“Something like that,” she did not want to get into it with him. “Meh. Not really. I called her to tell her I was here, probably 5 minutes ago.”

And Villanelle noticed he actually looked intensely sad at the mention of Eve. She was irritated by how many complex layers of emotion these people seemed to have… She didn’t like having to deal with it. And yet.

“She cares about you. More than you know,” she hated to say it. She’d rather puke than boost this man’s self-esteem even by a mere inch. 

“I know she does,” Niko spoke softly for the first time that night. 

She watched as he finally let go of the knife.

“How could you just… leave her?” Villanelle asked, watching as all signs of life seemingly escaped the man’s face. 

“What?” he was taken aback by the question. “Uhh… Well—"

“What? Hmm?” Villanelle’s eyes widened, antagonizing him. In her mind, there is no reason anyone should ever leave Eve.

"I just… I deserve better than that,” he said, stone cold. 

She scoffed, “That is so stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t deserve her,” she wanted to spit on him. “I mean, seriously. Why is it that men feel so entitled to having a perfect woman?”

Niko was speechless.

“People are complex, Niko. There are different layers to us,” Villanelle patronized him. “Just because you were not able to peel away at Eve’s different layers, it does not mean you get to be sad about it and put all the blame on her. Nobody is perfect."

She knew Niko wasn’t a bad guy. She knew he truly loved Eve, but that certain circumstances have led them to where he is now. But if she was in his shoes, she knew there was nothing that could ever tear her apart from Eve. 

“Can you just... please leave?” his voice cracked, his breaths shortened. He was clearly frightened of the woman. 

Villanelle stared at him, so weak and feeble. She tried so hard to play nice.

“Look, I promise I will not hurt you, okay?” she had to reassure him. “I know you have no reason to believe me. But I just need you to know that.”

Niko didn’t say another word— he just stood there, catatonic. Villanelle went into this knowing she wasn’t going to tell Niko any details about what exactly is going on— it simply wasn’t necessary. She just needed him to know that she’s there, and that she’ll be around. Niko absolutely hated her guts— and honestly, she couldn’t blame him because it was totally mutual. But if she was ever going to gain Eve’s respect, she knew she had to play nice with the mustache.

\----

She made it back to her hotel room, physically tired, but mentally sound. All day she had looked forward to tucking herself into the heavy duvet. But when she was alone again at 2 AM, she dwelled on the fact that she hated having a king sized mattress all to herself. 

With her phone in hand, she knew she had a few options to weigh. She could either dial the number of someone who she knew would come over and temporarily relieve her from her loneliness, or she could try for the person she knew definitely wouldn't come over even if she begged. 

She couldn’t even pretend like that was a difficult choice to make. 

V: Hi, Peace Commander. 

1 minute later.

E: Peace Commander?

Villanelle’s face instantly glowed, not at all anticipating such a quick response.

V: I am trying to make peace with Niko because of you. 

E: Lol. How’d that go?

V: Very good. I think he likes me.

E: ………Sure he does.

V: What? I am very charming.

E: Niko is not easily swayed.

V: His loss, then.  
Hey, why are you still awake?

E: I could ask you the same thing. 

V: I have a lot on my mind…  
But still, answer my question. What’s wrong?

A few minutes passed before Eve responded.

E: I can’t stop thinking about him  
And I don’t know what to do about it. 

Villanelle read Eve’s texts, staring intently at her screen. She wished she could do something to comfort her, say something that could help her feel even a little bit better. But she knew there was only so much she could do from the comfort of her temporary hotel bed. So she figured just talking to the woman would be enough for now.

V: Kenny was very lucky to have you in his life.

E: I was lucky to have him in my life.

V: Are you sad?

Eve was taking longer and longer in between texts to reply, but Villanelle waited, ever so patiently.

E: Is it that obvious?

Villanelle was so focused on this conversation, her eyes glued to her screen. She bit her lip. 

V: Do not make me regret telling you this, okay?

E: Tell me what?

V: I bought you a bottle of wine. Much better than the shit I see you drinking. It is behind where you keep the cereal.

E: God, what would I do without you?

Villanelle smirked at her screen. Whether Eve meant it or not, she really didn’t care. She liked seeing those words coming from someone she was so incredibly fond of.

V: But don’t drink it right now. 

E: Why tease me like that? :( 

She smiled.

V: Just wait for me, okay? I will cook you dinner and we can drink it together. It is my favorite wine.

E: I can’t believe you got me orange juice instead of the cheap alcohol that I like so much.

V: Lol. Sorry baby x

There was a five minute break between the last text and the next. Normally she would see this as a bad sign, but Villanelle felt at ease knowing Eve wasn’t manically responding to each message. It meant she was probably in the process of falling asleep… Which was a good thing. So mission accomplished, she presumed.

E: Falling asleep.  
Thanks again, V. For all of this.  
I know things haven’t always been so simple between us, but I’m really glad you were here for me today.  
You never know when you’ll lose someone you care about.

Villanelle felt her face heat up, the smile on her face wide and cheeky. If this is what it feels like to care about someone, she never wanted to let her go. 

V: Sweet dreams, Eve.  
I’ll see you soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Twitter @perfectlysomber


	4. Please Don't Break Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle promised she would cook dinner for Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't handle fluff... this is not the fic for you, my friend!
> 
> Also, I mention a song in this chapter! "Under Cover of Darkness" by The Strokes. I highly recommend you check it out if you haven't yet :)
> 
> Guys... Please follow me on twitter @perfectlysomber :'( I'm new to the app and would love to make some friends!

Villanelle was grateful for room service because she had neglected to buy herself some groceries while out in the market for Eve the day before. Nonetheless, she made the best of her current living situation. 

She took advantage of the bluetooth capable stereo she was provided with, blasting 'Under Cover of Darkness’ by The Strokes while she danced shamelessly, biting on a ham and cheese toastie. She swayed with the rhythm, her hair down, hips meeting the beat of the drum. There was plenty of sun shining through the high-ceiling suite, and plenty of room for her to roam. She laughed at herself when she caught a glimpse of what she looked like in the mirror. Then she smiled at the thought of Eve.

“Don’t go that wayyy…” she sang along to the song. “I”ll wait for youuu.”

She was really feeling out the song, that was... until she felt a dry, almost crusty texture graze her shoulder from behind. And with her fast reflexes, she grabbed the knife she had tucked into her pyjama shorts earlier, holding the sharp weapon up against his neck without so much as missing a single beat. She rolled her eyes at the sore sight.

“You are so fucking ugly, you know that?” Villanelle made a childish face at him, letting the weapon down.

“And you have a terrible singing voice,” Konstantin jabbed back at her. He walked over to the stereo, turning the music off and Villanelle with it.

She looked away, her mood draining, “I was having such a good morning."

“I can see that,” he said, glancing over at the entire cart of breakfast delicacies she had ordered from room service. 

“Why must you bother me so much?” she asked.

“I heard you are trying to become Keeper,” he said, his arms crossed. 

“And you are here to talk me out of it?”

“No. I would like to help,” he offered.

“No thanks,” she said, popping a grape into her mouth. “You are scum of the Earth.”

“I am not. You care about me, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, but I also hate you,” she said, though they both knew that wasn’t true. Villanelle absolutely adored the old man… But boy, did he know how to get under her skin. So she kept her ground.

Konstantin sighed, “I don’t understand.”

“Must I spell it out for you?” she scorned.

“Please,” he shrugged, entertaining her irritation. 

She didn’t mean to get so… emotional about it, but it’s not like she could help it. She had been holding it in for so long. “You overwork me, you constantly break into my home, you turn off my music when I am dancing, and you smell like pickles all the time,” she made a face of disgust at that last one, her voice cracking. “You do not respect me."

He put his hands up, as if he were surrendering.

“Okay! Okay. I get it. I am sorry,” he tells her. “You don’t want my help.”

“Yes, now get out of my room,” she dismissed him.

“You must be careful, Villanelle,” he warned her. “The Twelve… There’s a lot more to it than you think. They are dangerous— You know that.”

“Just leave. Please,” she was calmer now. She didn’t want to entertain him anymore. She just wanted to go back to dancing. 

\----

Some time had passed, Villanelle had spent the majority of her evening getting ready to meet up with Eve later that night. She couldn’t help but feel so small, staring at herself in the mirror. Her gray slacks and matching blazer were Dolce & Gabbana, her plain white top significantly less flashy but all the more revealing. She sprayed a modest amount of her favorite perfume, the one she started to wear when she first met the curly haired woman, and she debated on whether she should wear her hair up or down. So she tied her hair back in a low ponytail.

Staring at herself, she wondered what color lipstick she’d most likely wear for the moment she finally got to kiss Eve. She fantasized it, longed for it, hell— she’d even try manifesting it. So she chose her favorite shade of red, Chanel 92 Amour. 

Maybe she was overdoing it, all for a dinner at Eve’s. But she didn’t care. She really didn’t care.

\----

Villanelle stuck her hands in her pockets quickly after knocking on Eve’s front door. She was only a little bit nervous— though, it didn’t show.

“Villanelle,” Eve was surprised, still in her pyjamas. She wasn’t expecting her.

“Hello, Eve. I told you I would cook you dinner, remember?” Villanelle reminded her, sliding in. 

“I didn’t think that’d be tonight,” Eve told her, honestly.

Villanelle roamed through her house as if it were her own, making herself comfortable without invitation. She looked around as if it were the first time seeing the place. 

“Your home is very lovely when it is clean,” she pointed out.

“I figured since there was nothing else to do…” Eve trailed off, following Villanelle into the kitchen.

“Hmm. Hungry?” she finally asked, turning to face the woman.

“Starved,” Eve agreed.

Villanelle smirked as she opened the refrigerator, pulling out red onions, brussels sprouts, thyme, and Gorgonzola cheese. Then she moved to the pantry and came back with thyme, ground pepper, and pasta. 

“I will make us Penne Rigate with Brussels Sprouts and Gorgonzola,” she announced. 

“Sounds delicious,” Eve entertained her, standing on the opposite end of the island.

“It is,” Villanelle maintained eye contact with her, taking off her blazer and setting it down on the side of the counter as if it didn’t cost her hundreds of dollars. 

Eve watched her, carefully so. 

“What’d you do today?” Eve asked, though she did hope she’e spare the gruesome details of whatever murder she committed earlier that evening.

Villanelle shrugged, “I just stayed in my hotel room all day. Thought about you, quite a bit. Masturbated a little.”

That was not the answer she was expecting. Eve cleared her throat. 

Villanelle looked at her, so in love. “Sorry. Too much?”

“Do you ever fantasize about people post-mortem?” Eve blurted out, her thoughts jumbled now that Villanelle was being so… intimate. 

She scrunched her face, “God, no. I don’t ever think about the people I’ve killed after I’m done with them.”

“You don’t?” Eve was intrigued. 

“Well, besides Bill. But you know how that goes,” Villanelle said, softly.

She didn’t want to talk about him tonight.

“So you don’t kill people for sexual gratification?” Eve was just letting it all out tonight.

“No,” Villanelle actually seemed disgusted by the idea of that. “That is gross. And most of the people I kill are men. We don’t have to talk about this, Eve.”

“I want to know,” she insisted, her eyes wider than usual. 

She paused cooking for a second, taking a good look at the curly-haired Goddess. And she wondered how she could look so beautiful like that, in a faded t-shirt and pyjama shorts. Then Villanelle came back to Earth, where she remembered she was having an actual conversation with the girl she so adored.

“I don’t kill people for any sort of personal gratification,” she tried her best to explain. “I… It interests me, seeing them go from something to just… nothing. You can see it in their eyes the moment they go. And it really makes you wonder what happens to them when they leave.” 

“So you kill because you like watching people’s souls escape their bodies?” 

She laughed, “I mean, a little bit? But Eve, you have to understand, I am good at my job. And when you are good at something, it keeps you coming back for more. I normally kill people who deserve it, anyway. So that is why they never even cross my mind once I am done with them.”

Eve nodded, not exactly sure what to make of the conversation she had so gracefully initiated. 

“Can I ask you a serious question?” Eve wondered.

“Where was that disclaimer a minute ago when you asked if I touch myself to the thought of dead bodies?” Villanelle joked.

Eve’s face lightened up, and she almost laughed, blushed too. “Look, why are you here? Like, actually. I’m curious.”

Villanelle’s tone and demeanor softened up yet again. She finished prepping the ingredients and finally poured the pasta into the boiling water. Then she stared at Eve.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, her voice small and raspy. She took a deep breath to recollect herself, “All I know is… that I really want to help you.”

“I still… I just don’t understand it,” Eve breathed out, flustered. “I mean, why me?”

‘Eve,” Villanelle said under her breath.

“Look, I know that you care about your designer clothes and… and French delicacies. I know that you kill people without so much as even thinking about the family they are leaving behind,” Eve began, though she wasn’t sure how much of this would resonate with the other woman. Not that she was trying to preach… She was just trying to get some sort of reaction out of her. Because whatever this charade was— it was bound to crack. Right?

“You are anything but ordinary, Villanelle. You do things unapologetically, and without reason. Nothing about you makes even an ounce of sense. So I’ll ask again… Why me?"

Villanelle felt her eyes almost welling up at the intimacy of it all. She was flustered, and so fucking in love with this woman. She chuckled, as if to downplay the magnitude of her feelings, “You do not even realize how incredible you are.”

And Eve noticed something different about her, in all her manic glory. She saw a hint of pain glimmer underneath the confession, as if for the first time in a long time, she was actually offended by something— hurt by something. And that something was the mere implication that Eve wasn’t aware of how amazing she was. 

“You see me, and you don’t assume things,” Villanelle said above a whisper. “Almost like you understand me, without even really knowing me at all.”

Eve watched her emote to the best of her ability. It was fascinating, seeing her on this night, and in this light.

“And for the first time, Eve. I feel seen, but not judged. And you do not even know how much that means to me.”

Eve gulped. The tension was thicker than a bowl of oatmeal.

“Fuck,” Villanelle regained her composure, her eyes lighting up. “I really need a drink.”

“You don't have to ask me twice,” Eve laughed, not wasting another second before moving to her cabinets and pulling out the expensive glass of wine her blonde counterpart loved so dearly.

\----

Villanelle took big bites, chewing loudly and without any care. She didn’t realize just how closely Eve was watching her the entire night. In fact, she was quite oblivious to any implication that Eve was so damn infatuated by the idea that she had a literal psychopath sitting at her dinner table. 

“This wine is so incredible!” Villanelle laughed, red in the face. Eve was surprised to see her so drunk. 

“You don’t drink much, huh?” Eve asked, 

“No,” she chuckled, breathless almost. “It is very rare, actually. And even then, it is only a glass. Never more.”

“You’ve just finished your second,” Eve pointed out, a chuckle.

“I know,” Villanelle admitted. “You make me… very nervous."

Eve sat still in her seat. Villanelle was never going to stop throwing herself at her, huh?

“I mean, look at you,” she said, staring her up and down. “You’re a fucking Goddess.”

Eve wasn’t sure how to take such compliments, “I never knew you could be so…”

“Honest?” Villanelle attempted to finish her sentence. “Emotional?” 

“Yeah,” Eve shrugged, a smile creeping onto her face. 

“A lot of people don’t seem to understand that about me,” she nodded, pushing her empty plate forward. “They think I’m incapable of expressing my feelings. Or worse— they think I am incapable of feeling anything at all. Such bullshit.”

“Well… Do you? Feel things?” Eve was curious. 

“I think so?” she confessed. “I mean… I can kind decipher when I hate somebody, or when I have absolutely no interest at all. And with you, I…” she trailed off, sighing. “I feel things when I am with you. But I don’t truly understand it."

It was true. For the most part… Villanelle was seemingly apathetic. A psychopath to the tee. But there was so much more to her than that. And she wanted so badly to prove that to her.

“I remember when I called you a psychopath,” Eve recalled. “You really hated that. Why?”

“How would you feel being put into a box, where people try to tell you exactly what you are and what you are not?” she questioned, her voice hoarse. "Nothing about me is simply black or white. There are things about me that are extremely difficult to understand, sure. But that does not give anyone the right to label me as an entirely good or bad person.” 

Eve was in awe. She took a sip of the wine, wiped her face, and nodded.

“I agree,” she told her. And she saw the colors of love fill Villanelle’s face once again.

“Sometimes I kill people simply because I want to,” she shrugged. “And sometimes I kill people because they fucking deserve it.”

“I know,” Eve told her, but she wasn’t scared. Nothing about Villanelle terrified her. And that fact alone terrified her. 

“You are not scared of me?” Villanelle asked, seductively. 

Eve gulped, and slowly shook her head. 

“Not even a little bit?” her voice was low, deep, raspy. Her stare was undeniably consuming. 

Eve took a small breath, “No.”

Villanelle smirked, her cheeks red and glossy.

“You should be,” she warned. 

“Why?” Eve tried her.

“Because I can break your heart so fucking badly,” she said, slowly and barely above a whisper. “You will be begging to your hideous husband that you wish you never met me.”

Eve smiled at her, “I don’t think you would.”

Villanelle tilted her head at the response, her eyebrows raised. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re here— uninvited, and unwarranted. You cooked me dinner with food that you bought. You’re drunk off expensive wine because you were too nervous to sit down and have a real conversation with me,” Eve told her, watching as yet another smile crept ever so slowly onto the blonde woman’s face. “You kill people for a living, and use the money you make to fly out from Paris to give me flowers. You couldn’t break my heart even if you tried.”

Villanelle had never felt so seen in her entire life. And Eve was absolutely right— she couldn’t break her heart, not now anyway. A few months ago, maybe. But after seeing her like this, so brutally honest, so observant and so brilliant, Villanelle knew she could never let herself break this woman’s heart. If anything… Eve was going to be the one who breaks her. 

“You are right…” Villanelle was soft, her eyes bright and glossy. “Your heart is big and full and… so incredibly fragile. I couldn’t break your heart even if I wanted to,” she whispered, staring down at her lips. “Please don’t break mine."

**Author's Note:**

> Tweet me @perfectlysomber.


End file.
